Grief
by Brave
Summary: Mutant x grieves
1. Remember

The sky opened up and let loose a torrent of water upon the already damp earth. Lightning streaked across the turbulent sky and its accompanying thunder soon echoed throughout the dark afternoon. But none of this seemed to stir the lone figure standing vigil over a small patch of freshly turned earth. In his hand he clutched a single flower, a tiger lily, which somehow seemed hauntingly appropriate in this occasion.  
  
His heart had been torn out, figuratively speaking anyway, although at that moment he wished for the courage to make it literal as well. But the memory of his heart and the others gathered a few metres behind him, stayed his hand. She would want him to live on, live on without her, move on. But at that moment it seemed almost impossible to see past his immense grief. Memories of her laughter, her smile and the way it lit up her face, the way she seemed to exude a golden warmth which touched all those lucky enough to be around her.  
  
A lone tear slid down his cheek, though with the rain and relative darkness, it went unnoticed. He clutched the flower in his hand tighter until he felt it break in his grip. He laughed, a hollow bitter sound only heard by his own ears.  
  
She was just like this flower. Beautiful, vibrant and bursting with life. That is until her time on this earth was cut brutally short without warning or mercy. Memories of the blood soaked ground haunted both his waking and sleeping mind.  
  
They had been unable to save her.  
  
He had been unable to save her.  
  
All his knowledge, all his skill had, in the end had amounted to nothing but a few seconds of sustained life. Her blood coating his hands as he, with great care, closed her empty unseeing eyes. Eyes that would never again light up a room, or he finally admitted, his heart.  
  
Brennan with all his strength and skill could not save her, he could only stand back and do nothing as the life left her body.  
  
Emma with all her gifts only cried and sobbed with grief and pain until it seemed that the next sob would tear her fragile body into pieces.  
  
Jesse, for all his powers, could only look on with fear and grief in his eyes as, their leader, tried to save their friend, their teammate, their heart.  
  
But he couldn't, he had felt her life slip through his fingers, as real as her blood, which coated his shaking hands.  
  
He had to be strong for them, he was their leader. But what did it all matter now that she was gone? Everything else seemed but a faded memory when compared with his grief.  
  
But they would go on, he knew that. They would live, but they would never forget.  
  
He sent a silent plee to the heavens. Shalimar, please forgive us. Forgive us for not being strong enough, fast enough, skilled enough to save you.  
  
And with that thought.  
  
He broke down and wept. 


	2. What if

The heavy drops of rain played a soft tattoo of music upon the roof of the car. It was soothing in its consistency yet at the same time each drop seemed to add to her headache. Crying always gave her a headache, which meant that, considering the amount of crying she had been doing lately; she had one hell of one.  
  
But no matter how hard she tried she couldn't seem to stem the flow of tears running rivulets down her face. For someone with her gifts, she didn't seem to have much control over her emotions. She had tried meditation techniques, but that only succeeded in making her cry harder, as memories of the one who had taught them to her filled her mind. Her loss was still keenly felt, especially at times like these. God she missed her.  
  
She missed the way that she made her feel safe and loved with only the tiniest gesture. The way that no matter how bad she was feeling, Shalimar could make her laugh. She missed the connection she felt whenever they were together. She missed the women she considered a sister.  
  
It was funny, in an ironic sort of way, that the one person who made her feel the best about herself, was the one who, unintentionally, was causing her the most pain. But that couldn't be helped. It wasn't Shalimar's fault that she was so kind hearted that she couldn't turn down someone looking for help.  
  
It wasn't her fault, that she believed them when they sought her out. It wasn't her fault that she was to kind to say no. And it wasn't her fault that she was gone. None of them had seen the knife coming, until it was buried in Shalimar's side. And even then, it had taken several moments before they realised what had happened, several moments in which Shalimar had desperately tried to stop the bleeding.  
  
It wasn't until they saw her slide to the ground that they realised something had gone wrong.  
  
If only they, her, had been paying more attention, this wouldn't have happened. But instead she had been to busy teasing Jesse about his new girlfriend to notice the subtle change in the demeanour of the girl they were supposed to be helping. She blamed herself for the things she could not change.  
  
What if she had listened to the voice in her head that told her, this is to easy. What if she had seen the knife and had been able to cry out a warning. What if..  
  
She knew that she couldn't change the part, but that didn't stop her wishing and lamenting what if. 


	3. Never have the chance

The light reflecting through the multitudes of empty bottles upon the table caused a rainbow effect now present on the walls of the dark room. But the beauty of this phenomenon was lost upon the loan finger hunched in the corner.  
  
The lack of light emanating from the single working lamp caused a number of dark shadows to play across his face. This is where he belonged he thought, in the dark, alone. That was all that was left now, the dark.  
  
Brennan sighed.  
  
Now that his light had been taken away.  
  
He hadn't appreciated her. Her Smile. Her laugh. The way she smelled of the forest, a light, musky scent. The way she made him feel like the most important person in the world just by looking at him.  
  
He hadn't deserved her. None of them had.  
  
She had given her everything to the team, to them. She gave herself, body and soul to the mission, to saving others.  
  
All she asked, was that she could rely on them, trust them to walk by her side. To help her when things got too much for her to handle alone.  
  
But he, they, couldn't even do that.  
  
They couldn't protect her when she needed them the most. They couldn't save her when her life was in their hands. They couldn't even manage the simple task of watching her back.  
  
He laughed, a short burst of sound.  
  
Watching her back. That was exactly what Jesse had accused him of earlier that day. Though he had meant "back" in a totally different context.  
  
He hadn't missed the puzzled looks she sent his way, or the look of hurt that crossed her face whenever he avoided her gaze.  
  
If he hadn't been trying to prove Jesse wrong, by totally avoiding looking at Shalimar altogether, he might have been able to save her.  
  
He might have seen the knife in time. He might have seen it coming. He might have seen the look of pain that must have graced her beautiful face as the knife was plunged home. But instead, he had been as far away from Shalimar as he could possibly get, without arousing suspicion.  
  
He had been the last to reach her.  
  
It had taken him a full thirty seconds to cross the warehouse. Thirty short seconds which seemed to last forever at the time. Time enough to see Emma and Jesse clutching each other weeping, time enough to see Adam crouched by her side, trying in vain to save her. Time enough to see her convulse with pain.  
  
Time enough to loose his chance to say goodbye.  
  
He had reached her side, just as the life left her body. Left her lifeless, and her eyes empty.  
  
Her beautiful golden eyes, so full of emotion, empty now, save for a few left over tears and his reflection.  
  
His regrets run rampant through his alcohol-clouded mind. Thoughts of what could have been leaving him cold and sad.  
  
He would never get the chance to say so many things to her. Never get the chance to see if they might have been good together. Never get the chance to feel he lips against his own, just once.  
  
He would never get the chance. 


	4. Never forget

His bruised and battered flesh stung as each drop of sweat trickled down his chest. But even this sharp constant ache was not enough to rouse him form his thoughts. He ignored the pain; shut it out of his mind, like it meant nothing at all.  
  
Because to him it didn't. The pain in his heart was of much more importance, as he lay on the cold hard ground. The three and a half hours he had just spent pummeling unbruiseable holographic flesh, faded from his exhausted mind.  
  
Instead he thought about all the times he had seen HER fight those very same holograms without receiving a single mark.  
  
And with that thought, his earlier anger overwhelmed him once more.  
  
Anger at her, for letting her guard down.  
  
Anger at the others for not seeing the danger.  
  
Anger at the GSA for setting them up.  
  
But most of all, he felt anger at himself, for letting her die.  
  
That day, he had intended to meet a member of the underground, his girlfriend for lunch. He still remembered the annoyance he had felt, when Adam asked him to go with them to meet a new mutant. The annoyance that Shalimar had obviously sensed, judging from the sympathetic looks she had sent his way.  
  
He remembered brushing her off with unkind words and sarcasm.  
  
He regretted that keenly now. Those were the last words they spoke to each other. The last thing he said to her, as cruel and unkind. Maybe if he had been paying her more attention, instead of thinking of what he was missing out on, she would still be here.  
  
God he missed her.  
  
He regretted so much about that day. Ignoring her, brushing her off. Not protecting her when she needed them, letting her die. But most of all, he regretted not being able to say goodbye or tell her he loved her.  
  
It was over so quickly. Mere moments, seconds really. But that was all it took.  
  
Seconds.  
  
Seconds to see her fall. Seconds to rush to her side, seconds to realize what was wrong and seconds for her to slip away.  
  
But it would take more than seconds to understand she was gone, to mourn her loss. He would grieve for her for the rest of his life. They all would. When it came time for him to leave this earth, he knew, that his last thoughts would be of her.  
  
He wished he were a religious man, wished he believed in life after death or heaven. He wasn't sure. But if there was the slightest chance that heaven was real he knew, that Shalimar would be their, waiting for him. Waiting for them.  
  
This was the only comfort he could draw form this tragedy, that maybe she was in a better place.  
  
He hoped so.  
  
They would never stop mourning her, never stop missing her, and never stop wishing she were with them.  
  
He knew that eventually he would forgive himself.  
  
But he would never forget. 


	5. Letting them grieve

The steady stream of men and women continued their everyday jobs, with no idea of the event that had recently taken place. To them it was just another ordinary, simple day.  
  
But nothing about today was ordinary.  
  
He leaned back in his chair, as he did so his eyes alighted upon the report lying unobtrusively open on his desk.  
  
He had already read it numerous times, enough times to memorise it. One if his plans had finally succeeded. A member of Mutant was no longer a threat to him, or to anyone as a matter of fact.  
  
She was dead.  
  
Shalimar Fox. He had memorised her file, all of their files. No they enemy, was a code he had taken to heart. He new their strengths, their weaknesses, he new them almost as well as they new themselves.  
  
All the times he had seen her or fought her flooded his mind. Images, conversations memories of other reports swarmed around him until he regained control and shut them out.  
  
None of those memories mattered any more. She was dead.  
  
Curiously, this fact did not bring him the satisfaction it should have. He had been battling Mutant X or others like them for many years. Time after time they had spoiled his carefully laid plans and schemes.  
  
This death, her death, should have brought at least a small amount of joy. But instead he felt a diminutive amount of sadness and regret.  
  
Regret that he had not succeeded in his attempts to turn them, her, to his way of thinking. Regret that a powerful, for she was extremely powerful, mutant was no longer in his reach. And regret that she died the way she did, not in battle, but in a sneak attack, an ambush. She had not gone down fighting, she had deserved at least that much.  
  
He felt at that momnet, some sympathy for her. Not for Adam and his freaks though. He felt no sympathy for them. Maybe when they to had passed he would feel it.  
  
He also felt guilt, a small amount, but still he felt guilt. If Adam counted himself the "Father" of all new mutants, then he, Mason Eckhart, would surely be an Uncle. Though he blamed Adam for the creation of those freaks, he felt at least some responsibility. Not much. But still enough to warrant a small twinge of guilt every time was of them lost their life.  
  
Mutant X would be grieving right now. They would be fragile. If he ordered an attack, they might actually be defeated. But he wouldn't, not now. They deserved time to grieve for their loss.  
  
He knew what it was like to grieve for a loved one. He would give them their time.  
  
So as he sat in his office, he mourned her loss, in his own way. For a small amount of time he would grieve. Tomorrow was another day and he had a job to do. He carefully closed the folder on his desk and did something Mutant X couldn't do.  
  
He moved on. 


End file.
